The Ties That Bind
by dyingimmortal
Summary: What do people really think of Alex? A look into the heads of people he's encountered throughout the series. Drabbles.
1. Ian

_So… this is my first voyage into the world of Alex Rider fanfiction. I've been reading it for quite some time now, so I thought I'd give writing it a go. This has probably been done before, but I wanted to try it myself. I like to think of it as a character exploration, so that any future AR fics I may write in the future will have characters that are more… in-character…thanks to this… because it might have helped… Um. Yeah._

_I don't have any of the Alex Rider books with me, so I apologize for any (minor) canon discrepancies. Feel free to correct any you spot. If there are any, that is. The rating might go up to T, 'cause there might be swearing (it's entirely possible; I use excessive foul language myself) in the future. Some violence, perhaps? _

_… And I'll shut up now. Sorry for the long author__'s__ note.  
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The vehicle sped along the road, picking up speed as it went. The driver maneuvered twists and turns in the lane seemingly without care, at ease, though his mind was not nearly as calm as he physically appeared to be. As he drove, his thoughts whirred.

_Sayle… Stormbreakers… virus… MI6… Alex…_

Herod Sayle was not the generous man he appeared to be. His Stormbreaker computers were infected with a virus… a strain of smallpox… he was planning to mass murder all of the innocent schoolchildren in the country. And for what? A petty revenge on the Prime Minister.

Ian knew he had to get back to MI6, and right away; they needed to be informed. If he made it back at all… (An alarm had gone out. Ian wasn't stupid; he could tell when he was being trailed, or when it was entirely possible that he was going to be.)

_No_, he chastised himself; he couldn't think like that. He had to give MI6 the intelligence he'd gathered. He had to get back home, to Jack, to Alex.

_Alex. _Before Ian could stop it, a mental image of the boy's face, brown-eyed and cheerful, flashed through his mind. Somehow, that single picture was a reminder of everything he'd done; training the boy: exposing him to different languages and cultures, giving him little tips on things like how to pickpocket and the like, signing him up for karate classes, going scuba-diving with him… everything he'd done, he'd been preparing the boy, and one day, it would all lead to—

_No,_ Ian said to himself, turning a corner on the road. _Focus._

Those were the last things he thought before a spray of bullets shattered the glass of his car's windshield and found their mark.

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_Uh, I hope this didn't /completely/ suck. Feel free to flame if it did. And it's supposed to be short, 'cause it's a drabble and all. Yeah. -cough- Reviews/constructive criticism are appreciated. :)  
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	2. Jack

_Thanks to everyone who reviewed. This one's Jack. The last chapter's author's note was long because it was the first chapter of the whole "series"; therefore, it had all the explanations and… stuff._

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Lately, whenever Jack Starbright thought of a certain fourteen (soon to be fifteen)-year-old boy, the first thing that came to her mind was worry.

There'd never been much concern before—true, when she'd first met Alex Rider, he'd been seven years old and she'd just taken on the task of being his uncle's "housekeeper" (and therefore Alex's caretaker as well), and so she should have been worried… worried at the idea of being a _seven-year-old boy's_ permanent babysitter. Jack had never had much experience with little boys before, but she'd babysitted before, so how hard could it be, right?

If Alex had been anyone other than himself, Jack would've realized rather quickly just how difficult seven-year-old boys could be. But Alex _was_ himself _(obviously)_, not someone else, and Jack had had it quite easy, despite her employer's strange, seemingly spontaneous, and frequent disappearances. Alex was an unusually bright and well-behaved child, mature for his age, and Jack had never needed to worry much about him.

She now realized that this was probably fate's way of paying her back. Fate had leeched away the expected worry from years past and dumped it all on her _now_, one big clump of concern and anxiety and vexation. It was up to her to deal with it now, alone, without Ian around to help.

Jack tried her best to live with it, she really did, but it was hard. She blamed Ian, Ian and that blasted government organization, MI6. Without them, Alex would just be any other normal teenage boy, worrying about girls and school and sports instead of spies and criminals and bombs and whatever else he really did worry about. He'd be _normal_.

Because he wasn't normal anymore _(_had_ he ever been normal? If Ian hadn't trained Alex since he was a child, would he be more mischievous, less mature, much different from what he was like now? Jack didn't want to think about that)_. She saw the way he acted now; the way he walked, spoke; the way he was now so cautious and alert. The way his _eyes_ looked—dark and haunted, much too mature for someone his age. No, Jack didn't like it at all.

He was now so mature; he didn't need her anymore. He'd seen things that could quite possibly make grown men break down and cry. He'd probably "saved the world," to overuse a cliché, more times than he'd refused to eat broccoli or made a goal for his football team _(the one he was no longer on, thanks to his _spying_…)_.

Alex could take care of himself now, which was good, because it seemed like nobody else was: MI6 didn't care; they were cruel, heartless bastards who only exploited him again and again for their own convenience. Alex only had Jack. And she would not let him down. There was no one else to worry for him, and there may not have been a need for such a person, but Jack would gladly take the job, if only it meant Alex would keep coming back home, safe.


	3. Wolf

_Sorry I took so long to update. I had a bit of trouble with this one, and my OCD wouldn't let me just work on something else and post that instead. Nooo, it has to be in /order/._

_I kept from mentioning Wolf's real name on purpose, by the way. Just for the record. It's meant to be that way. And this one's a bit longer than the others. Apparently, Wolf has a lot to say about Alex. :P_

_**Jacuzzin** (anonymous review reply): Glad you seem to like it so far. :P Thanks for reviewing!_

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Wolf had absolutely no idea what to make of Cub.

When he'd first met him, though, his feelings about the kid were definitely easy to discern. He hadn't hated Cub, just strongly disliked him. He and the rest of K-Unit were one of the best units of the SAS; they didn't need a teenager dragging them down. They didn't need to be the laughingstock of Brecon Beacons.

And for what? Just because some greedy old man—probably the kind who thought he could buy the world with the right amount of money, power, and influence—had decided he wanted his spoiled, snobby son to get a "real experience" of the elite SAS or something?

Wolf wouldn't stand for it… but he'd had to. Cub's father must have had a _lot_ of influence, because the sergeant informed K-Unit that higher-ups in intelligence had ordered Cub there. K-Unit would just have to suffer, to grin and bear it—wasn't that what they were doing all along?

Wolf had not liked his first impression of Cub at all. The kid had tousled blond hair and an impressive enough (well-toned, in shape) body for a civilian; therefore, Wolf concluded, not only was he spoiled and snobby, he probably got a lot of girls, too. He probably thought he was better than the SAS, just because his daddy had a big wallet and the girls came flocking to him. _Well_, Wolf had seethed, upon catching sight of the boy's indifferent face, _we'll show him._

If there was one thing Wolf did not like, it was being proven wrong. He _hated_ being wrong. He was the leader of K-Unit; what he said was the final word. He had absolute authority with his team; his judgment was relied upon. He knew what was best.

That had always been the case, until he'd met Cub. (Apparently, Cub liked to prove him wrong a lot.)

The kid didn't get teary-eyed and weepy when the rest of K-Unit bombarded him with insults and unflattering names (Double O Nothing, they called him… because intelligence had sent him there, so he had to be a spy, a bad one. At least, that was what K-Unit jeered). He didn't break down sobbing after the first unarmed combat class he went to. He didn't collapse on his bed, groaning from soreness or pain, after miraculously (in Wolf's opinion) completing the assault course. Wolf had been incredulous when he hadn't gotten in "trouble" for the stunt he'd pulled in the Killing House; he'd thought Cub was a whiny tattletale and would have "told on him." And when Cub tossed them the matches he'd obviously swiped from the sergeant after that forty-kilometer hike, Wolf had begun to feel a few grudging trickles of respect for the boy.

It wasn't until the day Cub literally kicked his arse out of that plane, though, did Wolf let himself admit (only to himself, though; Eagle would never let him hear the end of it if he found out) just how wrong he'd been about the kid. Maybe he'd never find out why Cub had gone to Brecon Beacons, but one thing was for sure: Cub was not the whiny, incompetent, spoiled rich kid Wolf had thought he was.

It took a lot for Wolf to admit he'd been wrong, even to himself, and confessing that to the kid (not in as many words, thank God) was practically torture. But Wolf had a strongly honed sense of right and wrong, and as much as he hated to do it, he would do it, because it was right. He'd been wrong enough in the past eleven days; it was time to start being right again.

Wolf didn't dwell too much on Cub after that. Sometimes he thought about the boy, wondering yet again just why, exactly, Cub had come to Brecon Beacons for only eleven days, and why he'd helped Wolf on the plane when Wolf hadn't done anything to deserve it. But for the most part, Wolf didn't think about it too much.

Then, one day, he was brought in by MI6 on a mission in the French Alps, to save some kids and an intelligence agent from a psycho at a school there or something. The last thing he'd expected was to see Cub again, but there the kid was, right in the thick of things—the agent Wolf and the rest of the rescue team were supposed to save. There the kid was, pulling some seriously fantastical stunts on a makeshift snowboard, managing to elude snowmobiles on his tail. There the kid was, seriously injured, but alive… and working for MI6…

At least there was some consolation to Wolf for his being wrong yet again about Cub; at least he'd been right about being wrong about Cub… right?

So it turned out that SAS training hadn't been just for the experience, after all.

Wolf didn't want to be, but he was amazed at how much change the kid had gone through. He'd been quiet and determined at Brecon Beacons, but at least he'd still been a kid; now he was a hardened spy. Not Double O Nothing at all: more like Double O Seven.

Wolf was rather chagrined; he'd preferred Double O Nothing. (It just so figured that intelligence was sending teenagers to do their dirty work for them.) But Cub had grown up since his SAS training at Brecon Beacons, and MI6 sent him back to the school he'd been fleeing from in the first place.

The mission was a success. The agent and the other children were saved. Wolf woke up in the hospital feeling rather conflicted.

Not all was behind them; he'd been downright unpleasant to Cub during his training and there was no going back on that. But he'd taken a bullet for the kid…

After much thought, Wolf decided that the whole situation was rather awkward, and left it at that.

He didn't hear from Cub again for quite a while after that. At one point, he was told that the boy was in the hospital with appendicitis, and after much deliberation, he'd written the kid a card. Not until Fox got back from an MI6 mission, though, months later, did he actually find out some more about Cub. Fox told the rest of K-Unit he'd worked with the Australians, and Cub had been there.

Wolf, Eagle, and Snake (particularly Eagle) pestered Fox for details, but all he'd say was "it's confidential, sorry." However, he did share one interesting tidbit of information with them, and it was about Cub's file. "His name's Alex Rider," Fox said, "and his parents are dead. Have been, for quite a while. And his file… it's disturbingly vague. And empty. A lot of stuff was taken out."

That was all Wolf (and Eagle, and Snake) could get out of him, but it got Wolf thinking. Cub, Alex Rider… he hadn't been sent to Brecon Beacons by a rich, snobby father after all (obviously). Wolf wondered how MI6 had gotten a hold of the boy, but Fox hadn't revealed anything about that aspect of Cub's past…

Clearly, there was a lot more to Cub than Wolf had first thought, a lot more to Cub than he'd ever expected.

He'd come to have no expectations where Cub was concerned. Except for being wrong, of course.


End file.
